


Forever

by evrybodysdarlin



Series: Forever-verse [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 00:31:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evrybodysdarlin/pseuds/evrybodysdarlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon wants Sam to keep him warm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was a fill for a wonderfully dirty prompt by [](http://aragorn.livejournal.com/profile)[**aragorn**](http://aragorn.livejournal.com/) over at [](http://asoiafkinkmeme.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://asoiafkinkmeme.livejournal.com/)**asoiafkinkmeme**. The prompt read:
> 
>  
> 
> _They jerk each other off under the sheets to keep warm. Bonus points if Sam wants to stay covered up because he's self-conscious about his cock._
> 
>  
> 
> [Here](http://asoiafkinkmeme.livejournal.com/5016.html?thread=3039896#t3039896) is the original prompt and my original fill.
> 
> This fic is both dirty and romantic...I love it!
> 
> No implied underage because I know that Jon and Sam are underage in the books, but I figure they are meant to be at least 18 in the show.

It all started so innocently.

Sam had only come to Jon's room to show him a book. Sam had found a section in a nature book all about direwolves, and he thought that it might have some facts about Ghost that Jon would like to know.

Sam being Sam, however, he ended up reading Jon nearly half of the volume, and by the time Sam was done reading the (admittedly interesting) book, it was near midnight. Fortunately, neither one of them had guard duty that night, but they had both become accustomed to rising early the morning. Neither one of them could stop yawning as Sam slowly closed the book. Jon saw Sam's tired eyes and blurted out the question.

"Do you want to stay in here tonight? You look like you're about to drop. Besides, this castle is so damnably cold. It would be warmer with someone else in here." Jon smiled like he was joking, but he knew that he was really speaking the truth. He shivered himself to sleep every night, even with Ghost there to warm his feet. The thought of someone warm next to him was undeniably pleasant. Besides, it was Sam. He liked to be with Sam.

"Sounds good to me. I can barely keep my eyes open," Sam agreed, laying the book down beside the bed.

Things became awkward as they both began to strip, then realized that it might be strange to take off your clothes when you were sharing a bed with another person.

"I usually wear my tunic and smallclothes to sleep," Jon said uncomfortably. He was frozen in an awkward hunch as he was bending over to take off his boot, and Sam was in a similar posture on the other side of the bed.

"Me, too," Sam said. His expressive eyes were flickering back and forth like he was nervous, but he seemed to take their stilted conversation as permission to pull his breeches off.

Soon they were both down to their thin tunics and smallclothes. Jon tried to hide the way his eyes kept wandering toward Sam's exposed body. He'd spent hours upon hours with Sam during his time at the Wall, but he'd never seen him in anything less than several layers of heavy clothing. Sam was soft all over, as Jon had known he would be. Jon's tired mind couldn't quite decide if Sam's extra weight made him look feminine--all plump and juicy like Jon liked girls to be--or more masculine than he'd thought. Even stripped down, Sam's body was big, so bulky, imposing even with its softness, just because it took up so much space.

Jon realized that Sam had his hand on the bed and was standing there hesitantly, waiting for Jon's permission to pull the covers down.

"Let's get in bed," Jon quickly said. As he moved toward the bed, he noticed the way that Sam's big eyes flickered onto, and then away from his own body. He wondered what Sam was thinking about him.

The two boys settled themselves under the heavy covers and furs of the bed. They were both lying there ramrod straight, forced by the narrowness of the bed to be right by each other's side, yet not quite touching.

"This is nice," Sam said, chuckling nervously, and his awkwardness made Jon laugh, too. Even though they had gotten in bed because they were both about to fall asleep where they sat, Jon suddenly found himself wide awake.

 _This is my first time sharing a bed with anyone except my brothers,_ Jon thought, and the thought made an unwelcome heat rush to his face. This wasn't exactly how he'd imagined his first time "in bed" with somebody else.

Sam was moving around a little, turning his wide body back and forth as though trying to find a comfortable spot. Then he rolled over onto his side, and his eyes met Jon's. The neck of his tunic was half unlaced, and it fell open as he moved, baring the skin of his shoulder, white and soft as a lady's, and Jon thought, _I want to touch him._

He pushed the strange implications of that thought away and focused on the idea of getting warm. Surely Sam was warm. Jon could feel his warmth even across the foot of space dividing them, radiating off him like a fire.

"Can we lie a little closer? I'm still so cold," Jon blurted out. To his relief, Sam quickly nodded and smiled, as though it were a normal thing to ask. _You're the one making this situation strange,_ Jon thought to himself sternly.

Sam was scooting across the bed, closing the gap between them, lying closer as Jon had asked, and then Jon was faced with the dilemma of how they should fit their bodies together. Face to face was surely strange, so Jon quickly rolled himself onto his side as Sam had, fitting his back against Sam's warm front. Sam nestled up behind him, stretching his arm over Jon's body, pulling him close, and Jon thought, _This, yes, this is what I wanted._  
  
This was the first time he'd felt warm since he came to the Wall. The furs covering them and Sam's heat at his back and the warmth of his arm wrapped around him, holding him...it felt like heaven. He squirmed himself even closer, and Sam responded by squeezing him a little tighter against his big body. Jon felt a rush of gratitude to Sam for always being so agreeable.  
  
"It feels so good to be warm," Sam murmured. The breath that came out with his words stirred Jon's hair and made goosebumps come up along his neck. He held his body still, trying to suppress a shiver.  
  
"Yes, it feels good, " Jon whispered back. He wondered why they were whispering. It just felt right.  
  
"I could never get warm in my room, no matter what I did," Sam continued. "I tried everything. Nothing really helped, except..." His voice trailed off, and Jon knew Sam well enough by now to hear embarrassment in his tone. Jon wondered why he would be sounding so uncomfortable, and then the thought hit him like a lightning bolt, the image clear in his mind. What did Jon himself do most nights in his bed alone? Something that kept him warm and kept the loneliness at bay, something that for a few minutes made him forget where he was...  
  
Jon's mind was filled with images of Sam touching himself. Opening his breeches and smallclothes, blushing and shy like he so often was, and reaching his hand inside and...  
  
Or maybe Sam wasn't shy when he did it, since he was alone, after all. Maybe he was bold and stripped himself naked, moaning out loud in his empty room, shameless.  
  
Gods, Jon wanted to know. He was ashamed that he wanted to know, but he did. The shudder he had suppressed made its way through his body, and he felt himself shiver in Sam's arms, helpless to stop it.  
  
"I know," Jon said, the words leaping from his throat without permission. "I do it, too. It helps." He rolled over a little, turned his head so he could look into Sam's face, which was blushed pink just like he knew it would be. They both knew what they were talking about now, and knew that the other knew. There was no hiding now.  
  
"But then you feel so cold afterwards," Sam answered softly. There was naked loneliness in his words, and Jon thought, _Yes, I know just how that feels._  
  
"We could do it now," Jon said, whispering again. "We wouldn't get cold this time." A rush of excitement overcame his embarrassment. "I want to." His hand wandered down to his smallclothes, and he felt, to his surprise, that he was already hard.  
  
"Yes." The word was so quiet that Jon almost thought he had imagined it, but then he felt Sam stirring behind him. Sam pulled his arm off of Jon, and Jon felt a momentary ache of regret. As Sam moved, though, Jon felt something stiff and hot brush against him. A rush of heat drenched Jon from head to toe as he realized that Sam was hard, too, just like him, already aching. He wasn't just warm now...he was on fire.  
  
Jon got his smallclothes open in an instant and took his cock in hand. He started stroking fast right away. He somehow felt that he'd been getting ready for this ever since the moment they'd gotten into bed.  
  
He looked over and saw that Sam hadn't started yet. He was lying still, and he was watching Jon. His eyes were big, with their pupils blown wide, and his mouth was half-open.  
  
"Sam," Jon gasped. "Come on, Sam. Touch yourself, too."  
  
Sam gave a little gasp in reply, and then Jon saw his arm moving beneath the covers. He could see the moment Sam took himself in hand just by the expression on his face. His eyes fell closed and he breathed hard.  
  
Jon watched as Sam fell into a rhythm, stroking a little more hesitantly than Jon had. Jon found himself moving his hand to match Sam's rhythm, both of their arms moving under the covers. Jon realized that they were breathing and gasping almost in perfect unison, and it was good, so good, but he wanted more.  
  
He wanted to touch Sam. He wanted to be the one making Sam feel this way. He wanted Sam to look at him with those adoring eyes again. He wanted them to come together. He wanted it so badly. But he didn't know how to ask. To ask this would be one step too far. He held still, frozen with indecision.  
  
Then Sam moaned his name. It was soft, like he was trying to be quiet, but so clear. _Jon._ He had this sound in his voice like he was begging. The thought struck Jon that even though Sam was a coward in battle, he was fearless when it came to speaking the truth, asking for what he wanted. The sound of Sam's voice echoed over and over in his mind. _Jon._  
  
Before he could get afraid again, Jon moved quickly. He reached over and found Sam's pumping hand with his own, wrapping his hand over Sam's fingers, meshing his fingers with Sam's, feeling his cock in between them.  
  
"Jon!" Sam's voice was full of surprise this time, and for a minute Jon thought he had made a mistake, and then Sam moaned so loud that it echoed in the stonewalled room. Sam moved quickly, too, so urgent, and Jon's back arched helplessly with pleasure as his own cock was suddenly wrapped in the tight warmth of Sam's soft hand.  
  
They found the same rhythm again, jerking each other fast and steady, and their gasps had turned into shameless moans. Jon's whole body was shaking. It felt so much like when he touched himself, but somehow so much better, and the way he could feel Sam's cock in his own hand, the rush of blood and the way Sam was pumping his hips to press himself closer...it was too much.  
  
Too much, yet not quite enough. After a few short minutes of touching each other, Jon felt like he was stuck on the brink of his orgasm, shaking with waves of pleasure that wouldn't quite break. Sam was stroking him relentlessly, but he needed something more.  
  
"Sam," he gasped. "Let me see you." He tried to push the covers down with his free hand, but Sam shook his head frantically and reached up to keep the covers pulled high.  
  
"No. Jon. I'm embarrassed. You don't want to see _me_." Sam's face plainly showed a mixture of arousal and shame.  
  
"I do," Jon insisted. He gave Sam's cock a particularly firm stroke and felt Sam tremble. "I do want to, so much. Why can't I?" He was the one begging, now.  
  
"Because," Sam whispered back. "I'm ugly. I'm so fat and no one's ever seen my cock, but I'm sure it's...wrong somehow. I'm always all wrong. Please, just let me touch you. You don't need to see me." Sam's hand had started its fast rhythm again, and it felt so sweet, but Sam's words had just made Jon long to see him even more.

  


"Please, Sam. Please." His arousal made it hard for him to put his feelings into words and to force those words to come out of his mouth in their proper order, but he made himself. He wanted Sam to understand. "You're not wrong to me. Not at all. I love to be with you. Everything you say and do, and your body...what I've seen and felt. I wanted you so much. You feel so good to me. Please, show me. I want to see what I do to you. I want to see." Before he knew he was doing it, he leaned over across the pillow and kissed Sam's lips. It was somehow more intimate than all the touching their hands had been doing. They were sharing the same space, the same breath, and Jon closed his eyes tight and breathed Sam in.

When the kiss finally broke, Sam spoke first. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes."

Jon eagerly pushed the covers down, exposing both of their bodies. He saw how they were both bare, their tunics pushed up and their smallclothes slipped down, how they were both shiny and slippery with sweat, how they were both so hard. He saw Sam's cock, thick and hard and leaking in his grasp, and he saw the way Sam was bucking his hips, fucking into Jon's hand with such abandon, and the sight of it was just what he needed. Jon cried out without meaning to, shaking and breathless as his orgasm knocked the wind out of him.

The way his muscles clenched made his hand tighten around Sam's manhood as he writhed, and he must have touched just the right spot, because he heard Sam cry out as he had, pumping his hips even faster, and he felt the warm wetness cover his hand as Sam followed him over the edge.

When Jon came back to his senses, he quickly pulled the furs on the bed up again, covering them both before they could get cold as their temperatures dropped. Then he rolled over and nestled into Sam's arms, which eagerly wrapped around him, accepting his body into their soft, tight grasp. Sam's fingers were stroking through the curls of Jon's hair, and Jon boldly leaned up and laid kisses across Sam's face, on his eyelids and round cheeks and then on his full lips. He laid his head on Sam's shoulder and closed his eyes. He felt his sleepiness finally returning.

"I don't see how I can go back to sleeping alone after this," Sam said softly into his ear.

"We won't," Jon responded firmly. "Stay with me again, every night. No one will know. Stay with me as long as you want to."

"Forever, then." Sam yawned and rubbed his face into his neck, planting a kiss there. "Forever."

  



End file.
